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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773648">Flying With You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddog616/pseuds/maddog616'>maddog616</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Dragon Riders, Dragons, Dwarves, Elves, Empire, Fantasy, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, King - Freeform, M/M, Mages, Magic, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Possessive Behavior, Potions, Protective Dream, Rebellion, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:22:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,847</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28773648</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddog616/pseuds/maddog616</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the empire of Aisling, the nefarious king, Jschlatt, had made it his job to rid the land of Dragon Riders. When George purchases a blue “stone” from an unusual merchant, he never would've predicted his life to change forever. In order to survive, Dream and George must overcome their personal conflicts and work with their friends to bring peace to the kingdom.<br/>--<br/>Shaking his head, the mask said between chuckles, “No, no, no. Just.. trust me?” He spoke with a charming lilt to his voice, and lifted his arm outwards, his fingerless gloved hand splayed open in welcome.</p><p>“George.” The brown-haired boy said warily, his hand meeting the smiley-man’s in a handshake. The merchant’s palm was warm, and the tips of his fingertips were tinged a soft pink from the cold. When the other didn’t release him, George looked up expectantly. </p><p>“Cl-,” the smile hesitated before speaking again, “Dream. Nice to meet you, George. Now run along, a man can only waste so much time.”<br/>--<br/>Crossover AU with Christopher Paolini's The Inheritance Cycle.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Diamonds</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey guys! This is my first fic, so I apologize for any future struggles. If you see any grammatical errors or have any suggestions, please leave a comment. Thank you and I hope you all enjoy it!<br/>--<br/>Beta reader is Kate17044.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey guys! I know the beginning might be a bit frightening, but don't worry! The angst isn't too bad, I promise &lt;3 Sorry if it takes me actual months to update. School is kicking my butt man. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy and any feedback is greatly appreciated :) &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>We're running... I'm running... running...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can't breathe... it's suffocating. He's gone, a piece of my soul is gone. How will I survive? </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's impossible. He would've begged me to keep trying, but I give up. </em>
</p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p>Moonlight spilled over the city of Aisling, reflecting off the surface of merchant booths and quaint houses. Leaves rustled, and the hoots of owls were like a comforting lullaby. The wind carried a song with it, singing of the loneliness that permeated the small town. </p><p>A crescendo of footsteps. A light blue cloak billowing in the wind. The chilling cold of the night air. A boy with wind-tousled brown hair hastily glanced around, brown doe-eyes in search of a particular shop. He shivered, clutching his arms in a futile attempt to keep warm. <em>Damn</em><em>, it's cold.</em> It wasn't often the merchants came to town, and so the boy had waited for the crowd to filter out.</p><p>As if waiting for him, a glowing smile peered out of the darkness. It was like something from nightmares, and the boy froze, eyes blowing wide. <em>So it's true. </em></p><p><em>I didn't know it could get any colder.</em> The boy shivered, a ghostly chill snaking down his spine. The glowing smile beckoned him forward with a short tilt upwards, and the boy in the blue cloak stumbled forwards, like a puppet caught in invisible strings.</p><p>As the boy grew closer, he realized the smile was just a mask strapped around a tall man’s face. The merchant leaned against a beam of the shop, arms crossed lazily across his chest. The man wore a lime green cloak, and his unruly blond curls peaked out of his hood like weeds. The white of his blouse was dirtied and untidily tucked into a pair of breaches.</p><p>“I see you’ve taken an interest in my booth, hmm?” The smiley mused, an unseen smirk carrying into his voice. “Never knew a pretty-boy like you would be interested in witchcraft.” The brown-haired boy scoffed, cheeks puffing up in annoyance. <em>Why was I scared of this smiley-idiot?</em></p><p>“Shut up,” he fired back, “and tell me... What exactly is all this? Witchcraft?” The boy gestured at the mess of the booth with his hands, finally able to see it clearly in the candlelight. The table was littered with small stones, varying in color and size. Some were translucent, others reflective and glittery. The books seemed to be written in a different language, but maybe that was just because the blue cloaked boy couldn’t read. </p><p>The smiley-man lifted a hand to the bottom of his mask as if pondering the question. “Well, witchcraft," he shrugged, "magic powers; enhanced strength, fire resistance, invisibility…” He paused, before concluding, “and if I do say so myself, it’s man’s greatest gift.”</p><p>The brown-haired boy raised an eyebrow, “Sounds like a sorry attempt at marketing to me. Besides, who needs magic when half the kingdom is starving to death?” He spat, but the masked man appeared unaffected. <em>Damn him, m</em><em>ost of us don't make a living off of fairytale promises. L</em>ooking over the booth again, disdain lay heavy in his eyes. The boy reached out, brushing his fingers over the many stones. <em>Nothing is happening.</em></p><p>Placing his hands on his hips, the brunette grumbled, "Isn't magic supposed to feel special? These just feel like boring old rocks to me."</p><p>The masked man made sighed, "Keep looking. Magic feels different for everyone."</p><p>The brunette rolled his eyes, but continued to let his hands roam over the variety of "magical junk." As he neared the end of his search, he paused over a large blue, polished stone. As if he were warming his hands over a campfire, the stone emitted hot, wild energy. The boy felt the sudden urge to close his eyes as if all his troubles would be magically chased away. <em>Is this what magic feels like? </em></p><p>"This. What's this called? I want it." Reluctantly, George brought his hand away from the stone, his veins alight with a new feeling. <em>Magic. Who would've thought it would feel so amazing?</em></p><p>The masked man seemed surprised, leaning forward as if assessing the boy before his booth, “Oh, you like that? Y’know what, I’ll give it to you for five shillings... and your name.” The brunette raised an eyebrow, leaning in closer to the merchant.</p><p>“Why my name? Are you going to curse me or something?” The brunette smirked, crossing his arms playfully. The masked man shook his head, laughing softly. The smiley-man’s laugh sounded like a tea kettle about to burst, and the blue cloaked boy tried to smother his smile. It was infectious.</p><p>Shaking his head, the mask said between chuckles, “No, no, no. Just.. trust me?” He spoke with a charming lilt to his voice, and lifted his arm outwards, his fingerless gloved hand splayed open.</p><p>“George.” The brown-haired boy said warily, his hand meeting the smiley-man’s in a handshake. The merchant's palm was warm, and the tips of his fingertips were tinged a soft pink from the cold. When the other didn’t release him, George looked up expectantly.</p><p>“Cl-,” the smile hesitated before speaking again, “Dream. Nice to meet you, George. Now run along, a man can only waste so much time.” Dream released him and waved his hand in farewell. Sweeping the stone into his arms, George deposited five coins before leaving out of the market with a new bounce in his step.</p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p>George’s fingers were cold, and even though he had only been out for a bit, he fumbled over the door handle. The stone was buried underneath his jacket, pressing against the skin of his chest. For some odd reason, George had the urge to protect it, and he held it against him until he entered his house. Immediately upon entering, the warmth of the house flooded him, and he paused, basking in the heat of the fireplace.</p><p>After warming up, George flexed his fingers, remembering the way Dream’s hand had slotted so perfectly into it. <em>Shut up, brain. I've been alone far too long. </em>Shaking his head, George walked towards the kitchen. His house was so small that the kitchen counted as his living space. His bedroom was just across, as George was too busy paying the surplus of taxes the King ordered from his civilians to enjoy furniture or needless decorations.</p><p>George shuddered, just the thought of the “king” nauseated him. Jschlatt was no king in his eyes, but his head would roll from his shoulders if he ever said that aloud. Jschlatt was supposed to be a “valiant hero” who saved the Bloque Empire from the clutches of the “nefarious” Dragon Riders. George knew the truth though, as did many of his neighbors.</p><p>Jschlatt, the hero, was nothing but a murderer. George grit his teeth and hung his head, banishing the thoughts in favor of relaxing in his house. Placing the polished stone on his bedside table, the blue was now a beacon in his otherwise bland room. The stone was about as large as his forearm, and easily balanced upright.</p><p>George melted into his bed, the warm comforter wiping away his thoughts and bringing a dreamless sleep. Or what usually would have been, if not for the drawn-on smile shining from the depths of his mind.</p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p>Peeling open his eyelids, the light was an unwelcome companion and George buried his face beneath the covers. His breathing slowly began to even out— CRACK!</p><p>George shot out of his bed; the beat of his heart was a crescendo in the silence of his room. He held a palm to his chest, feeling as it slowly began to calm down. Letting out a deep breath he looked around. Something must have fallen.</p><p>Stretching his arms above his head, he blearily looked for the culprit. His eyes caught on the blue of the stone, and he furrowed his eyebrows. A silvery vein spread through it like a foreign virus, and George cautiously walked towards it.</p><p>The stone was like a magnet, and George could hardly fight against it. He placed a hand on the stone, relishing in the unusual warmth it exuded, and his finger traced the new veins. It felt like a crack, but stones didn’t just crack? Right?</p><p>He placed his hands against his face, forcing himself to abandon the mystery of the stone and take up his daily chores. In the village, George harvested carrots, potatoes, and wheat (which he baked into bread). It was a slow process, but it put shillings in his pocket.</p><p>After finishing such chores, George returned to the house, dousing his hands in the well to strip them of any grime. Wiping his hands on his trousers, he spared a glance at his new stone, which had quickly taken an unusual place in his heart.</p><p>George froze, breath catching in his throat. <em>This can't be real. I'm dreaming. I must be dreaming. </em>Sitting there where his stone used to lie, was a little blue dragon hatchling.</p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p>The dragon’s eyes were like a glimpse into Atlantis. A hidden world, a world George was being forced to step into. George felt himself drowning, lost in the deep ocean of the creature’s eyes.</p><p>He stood frozen, not sure what to do in the face of a wild animal. Are<em> dragons even animals?</em> It didn’t seem like it, this being seemed to have a mind greater and more powerful than his own. The creature stared him down, and he suppressed the need to reach out and touch it.</p><p>Its body was lithe, and the dragon lay curled on his bedside table, its piercing eyes taking in the bedroom. George took the time to appreciate the creature’s scales; diamonds that littered its entire body. They reflected the candlelight, casting his room in a shroud of blue.</p><p>He couldn’t resist any longer and reached out, pressing his hand against the forehead of the creature. Searing pain exploded from his hand, spreading upwards like a wildfire until he could no longer think. He drew his hand back, clutching his skull in an attempt to rid his soul of the fire that burned within him. <em>I'm burning alive. Is this what death feels like? </em></p><p>George whimpered, breaths coming in ragged gasps as the fire snuffed itself out. He collapsed onto his knees; the dragon looked down at him with blatant amusement, chuffing to itself.</p><p>George’s jaw dropped, raising an eyebrow at the beautiful creature, “Did you just laugh at me?” He shook his head, pinching his arm with enough force to leave a bruise. He looked back up at the hatchling, half-hoping it would all be a hallucination. To his distress, their eyes met and George felt as if tentative fingers were caressing his thoughts.</p><p>The dragon’s eyes captivated him, keeping him prisoner as the hands picked apart his mind. Wherever they went they left pieces of themselves, a gentle current of warmth. Overwhelmed, George shut his eyes and shuddered as the gentle probing began to make its departure almost immediately.</p><p>Rushing to his feet, black spots clouded his vision and he looked down at his right palm. A small breath ghosted past his lips as the branding on his hand glowed silver. He lifted his other hand, tracing the new marking. It was an oval, smooth around the edges and sitting in the crater of his hand.</p><p>The sound of rustling woke him from his stupor, and he watched as the dragon rose to its feet, stretching its back like a lazy housecat. The small creature walked towards him, and he tentatively reached out, tensing in expectancy of another jolt of pain as he touched its scales.</p><p>Instead, he immediately felt calmer and the tension leaving his shoulders left him drained. George slowly dragged his palm over the dragon’s body, watching as it pressed itself into the palm of his hand and a soft rumble began to erupt from its chest.</p><p>A fond smile erupted on his face and he lowered himself to sit on the floor, the cobble cold against his skin. Instantly, the hatchling crawled into his lap, nuzzling its face into his leg. George continued to pet the creature, his thoughts a whirring mess.</p><p>As if feeling his unease, the dragon lifted its head and nuzzled into his hand. He stifled a giggle and continued to pet the top of the hatchling’s head. The small creature leaned into his touch, and George found himself enjoying its simple company. Real-life would have to wait.</p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p>A short while after, George figured the creature must be starving, as all baby animals usually are. He had a short supply of meat, but his little dragon would have to make do with what he had to offer. He worried his lip beneath his teeth, his thoughts finally waking up to the reality of the situation.</p><p>Dragon Riders WEREN'T supposed to exist anymore, Jschlatt had made sure of that. Looking down at his hatchling, he shivered. How could someone murder such gorgeous creatures for the sake of his own power?</p><p>Jschlatt had wiped Dragons and their riders off the face of Aisling. According to his own rules, he was the only one allowed power; or a dragon. His bond with Whiskei, a dragon almost as black as his soul, had put this plan in action. They were undeniably powerful, and the world still didn’t know the true reason as to why. Schlatt and Whiskei had slaughtered all of their brethren and crushed all eggs inside the Empire’s walls.</p><p>Recently, rumors had been spreading through the Empire of a rebellion planning to bring an end to Jschlatt and all of his madness. The civilians referred to them as The Dream Team, a group that hoped to make people like George's dream a reality.</p><p>George exaggeratedly cut the hatchling’s meat, imagining he was cutting the face of a certain “King.” The little dragon chirped happily at his feet and George began to toss bits of meat towards it, watching as the dragon made a game out of catching them. A warm smile grew on George's face, and he vowed to protect this dragon. Even if it cost him his own worthless life. </p><p>Suddenly, the door of the house was thrown open; a crash resounding throughout the entire home. Instantly the domestic mood was sucked out as if the cold air had infected everything around it. George’s jaw went slack, for the second time that day, as a familiar white mask staggered through his doorway.</p><p>“George..” Dream gasped out, his lime-green cloak torn and bloodied at its edges, “Thank the Gods you're safe.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Runaways</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Little content warning!! A bit of gore &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>Dream’s fingers wrapped around George’s wrist, towing him forward, “George. We have to leave now, they’ll be here any minute.” George stared at him, dumbfounded. His door lay in the dirt,  blown fiercely off its hinges, and dust now billowed in through the doorway. Dream was breathing hard, as if he had fought an entire army to get to him.</p><p>“What? You can’t just bust down my door. What even is this, a kidnapping? Who even are you? What’s going--” Dream’s hand moved from his wrist to cover George’s mouth, abruptly cutting him off.  Lowering his head, Dream’s wild blond curls tickled like spiders against George’s neck. George went slack, his heart stuttering in place. Dream smelt like pine trees, like running wild through the forest, like an escape. <em> I could stay here forever. </em></p><p>“Less talking. More packing,” Dream rasped, his voice a deep husk, as if daring George to rebel against him. In an ill-considered decision, George bit down on Dream’s hand, causing the man to recoil with a sharp hiss. </p><p>“Don’t touch me.” George spat, storming off and slowly rubbing his hands against his cheeks to smother his blush. Scoffing, he stomped into his bedroom, a pout evident on his face. George didn’t want to leave; he had lived in this boring old town for years. He appreciated each cobweb and the layer of dust that was a thin blanket over almost everything. It was home.</p><p>He thought back to the urgency in Dream’s voice, and a chill descended through his spine; <em> something is definitely wrong </em>. Fiddling with the hem of his cloak, he made his choice.</p><p>Pulling out a worn leather satchel from under the bed, he filled it with a few practical necessities; a pair of leather gloves, a variety of blue tunics, and two pairs of breeches. He grabbed his bow, placing the arrows in his quiver. It was all he had, so it would have to make do. Before exiting the room, he slipped his worn, blue cloak over his shoulders, peering back into the kitchen where he had left Dream.</p><p>The masked man was crouched down, cradling pieces of raw meat in his gloved palm. George watched as the little blue dragon strutted forward, gulping the meat down in one breath. It continued nuzzling into Dream’s palm, and the man let out a soft chuckle. Dream spread his gentle fingers over the dragon’s wing membrane, carefully opening it up to its full length. The hatchling’s wings glittered like stardust, as if brilliant diamonds were embedded into its exposed skin. Dream closed the baby’s wing, hands running over its smooth back.</p><p><em> How unusual. Most “normal” people would be alarmed at the rare sight of a baby dragon. </em> Dragons were extinct, or so they were told, and it was a miracle that George was keeping one. He brought a hand to his chin in thought, his cloak rustling against his pale arms. Suddenly, Dream’s head shot upwards, trapping him in place.</p><p>Caught watching, George scowled and stalked forward, scooping the little dragon into his arms. The hatchling chirped in amusement, crawling upwards to drape itself over George’s shoulders like a boa. As soon as the hatchling touched his skin, a calm sensation spread across his mind. Crossing his arms, George snapped, “Are we leaving or what?”</p><p>Dream playfully rose his hands above his head, palms forward, as if in surrender. “Okay, okay! We don’t have much time..” Dream walked outside before tilting his head to stare up at the stars, enraptured. George watched as the lime-green hood fell from his head, blond hair cascading into a wild mane. The strands captured the star’s burning light, threads of gold reflecting into the night. </p><p>Finally, George forced himself to follow Dream’s gaze, looking up at the dancing jewels in the night sky. Stars were bright lights, beacons of hope in an otherwise suffocating darkness. He shifted his eyes to the moon, which seemed like a glowing royal in its sea of warriors. </p><p>“The trip will take about a week of on and off running,” turning his head, Dream peered down at George, “try to keep up, eh?” In an instant, Dream took off running, dust billowing in clouds from his boots. George faltered for a brief moment, before stumbling after the masked man. Dream moved quick, bounding like a nimble deer into the forest ahead.</p><p>~OoOoO~<br/><br/>George found himself tripping over objects that didn’t even seem to exist. Random tree roots that appeared out of nowhere, and branches that made it their mission to strike him in the forehead. Beads of sweat ran down his face, and George panted in an effort to keep up with Dream. Speaking of, said idiot would pause and wait for George to catch up before immediately bounding away again, laughing maniacally at the other boy’s suffering.</p><p>George wasn’t prepared for this; the only athletic capabilities he possessed were from when he went out hunting with a bow. Archery was one of his only hobbies, and he always felt a surge of pride when a deer fell prisoner to one of his arrows. Pain in his ankle brought him back to the present, and his vision swam as he stumbled over yet another root. </p><p>He collapsed to the floor, groaning in despair. <em> How am I supposed to keep up with this man? He has superhuman stamina or something; it’s crazy. </em> George felt a slight movement beside him and looked up to greet the eyes of the dragon. Blue eyes stole his thoughts and he found himself lost in an endless moment.</p><p>A familiar, gentle sensation tickled his mind, like an ant crawling up his skin. The ants proceeded to build their nest, carefully making their way into his soul. George closed his eyes, basking in the feeling of another mind joining his own. A swift river of thought swam beneath his eyes, glimpses of another being’s history flashing through them.</p><p>He saw present memories; ones of fighting his way out of an egg, only to awaken in an undecorated bedroom lit only by candlelight. Another of calloused gloved hands passing over his face and the pleasant warmth of being held in someone’s arms. </p><p>Then, a new, unknown river joined in, the two different currents fighting for dominance. Therein he saw his own memories flash through; running through lush forests as a child, the pleasant smell of his mother’s cherry pies, and finding a small, glittering hatchling in his bedroom. </p><p>As time went on, the rivers melded together, creating a smooth flow of tranquility. George wished to lie there forever, his mind a precious safety from the world outside. George knew now that the myths his mother told him growing up; of dragon and man being one, were nothing but the truth. </p><p>George tentatively reached out with his mind, feeling for the dragon. He was confronted with a vast emptiness, pressure closing in on his conscience. He clenched his teeth and tried to force a thought into the blankness, but the only response he got was an abrupt increase in pressure. Gasping, he retreated inwards, eyes flying open. </p><p>His breath ragged, George marveled at the creature before him, a legend born out of fairytales. The hatchling stared back at him, wild knowledge dancing in the blue depths of its eyes.</p><p>~OoOoO~ </p><p>“Hey George, get off your ass! We need to go…” Dream bounded towards him before looking up at the sky. Above the treetops dark tendrils of smoke rose upwards, clouding the sky. Dream stiffened before whirling on his feet, “NOW!” </p><p>Dream reached down, pulling George up by his wrist and yanking him forwards. Stumbling like a newborn foal, George blearily looked above the treetops, his vision still foggy from exhaustion.</p><p>From the direction they had come, the loud crackling of a raging fire was unmistakable. An overhanging cloud of ash polluted the sky, blocking out the light of the stars, and George looked up at Dream.</p><p>The masked man still maintained a vice-like grip on his wrist, and George grit his teeth as he was hauled forward once again. They broke into a sprint, Dream practically towing him along. The little dragon glued itself to George’s neck, smothering its face in his hair. </p><p>The fierce wind rushed through George’s brown locks, tousling it into intricate knots he would have to pick apart later. Oddly enough, he felt free, and a wild smile grew on his face. The brilliant green of trees flashed in his peripherals, and Dream’s calloused hand was an anchor that prevented him from flying away.</p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p>After running for what seemed like days, George’s legs completely gave out. He collapsed to the floor, the little dragon gliding down from his shoulder to avoid being crushed. His legs throbbed, the muscles crying out in protest of the strain. </p><p>Although he felt like he had been run over by a stampede of horses, George couldn’t help the manic grin that spread across his face. Before long, he burst into a fit of joyous laughter, the absurdity of the day finally setting in. </p><p>Dream looked down at the boy next to him, a soft smile growing beneath his mask. He chuckled, before bursting into loud wheezing laughter. George looked up, his brown eyes blown wide. It sounded as if Dream’s lungs were trying to miraculously escape his body. </p><p>The wheezing laughter only caused George to laugh more uncontrollably, clutching his stomach as it convulsed. Eventually, tossing back his head, he reclined back into the dewy grass, wiping the sweat from his brow.</p><p>George took a deep breath, closing his eyes. A gentle smile rested on his face, and he passively listened to the peaceful chirps of crickets and the ominous hoots of owls. A rustling noise sounded to his left, and he cracked an eye open to see Dream settling beside him.</p><p>“This looks like a safe place to rest, and I’m sure you have plenty of questions?” asked Dream, spreading his hands above him, the taut muscles of his arms stretching. George watched as his tunic slowly rode up, showcasing a sliver of tan skin. </p><p>George hastily looked elsewhere, his face growing hot. Scoffing, he rolled his eyes, “Plenty is an understatement.”</p><p>Dream chuckled, a deep rumble, “Well go on then, hit me.” </p><p>“Okay, um.. who are you? And how did,” he gestured at the dragon resting on his chest, “this happen?” </p><p>Dream tapped a finger against the bottom of his mask, as if deep in thought, “Who am I? Well. That’s a lot to unravel, but we can check off the basics.” </p><p>Dream raised one of his arms, holding out four fingers before shifting to look at George. Suddenly George felt shy because although he couldn’t see Dream’s eyes, he knew the man was assessing him. </p><p>“Well for starters, my favorite color is lime green.” Dream fidgeted with the hem of his cloak as if it explained the unusual color choice. “Green reminds me of growing plants, of baby animals and new life.” Dream gestured at the little dragon before quickly lowering one of his three fingers.</p><p>“Only two facts left Georgie, so pay attention!” George absently nodded, hanging onto each of Dream’s words. </p><p>“Secondly, I am an elf.” The light tone of his voice suddenly dropped, “So don’t try to pull something on me, I’ll hear you before you can even blink.” George gasped before shooting upright, his eager eyes wide in awe.</p><p>“You’re an elf? A REAL elf?”Disregarding the blatant threat, George crawled towards Dream’s head, cautiously reaching towards his ears, “Can I see them?”</p><p>Dream tilted his head, “Sure.” Raising a hand, Dream shifted his mask, his ear now visible. George tentatively reached out, softly brushing Dream’s wavy, blond curls away to see clearer. </p><p>Dream’s ear rose to a sharp point at the tip, just like in the stories his mother had read to him as a child. George bit his lip, smothering a reminiscent smile, and gently ran his fingers over the cusp of Dream’s ear.</p><p>Instantly, the man’s breath hitched and his ear twitched out of reach. George recoiled, suddenly feeling like he overstepped.</p><p>“Ah, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He carefully folded his hands in his lap, looking away with a slight pout.</p><p>Dream shook his head, audibly swallowing. “Don’t be stupid, you didn’t hurt me, idiot. I just wasn’t expecting… that.” Dream turned away, suddenly a lot tenser. </p><p>George frowned; his first conversation with another person and he already fucked it up. He couldn’t suppress his innocent wonder, though, and passively watched as Dream fixed his grinning mask. Thankfully, the smiley-man spoke up, raising the remaining two fingers with new valor.</p><p>“Anyways, third fact about me; I’m the best, and most charming, sword wielder you’ll ever meet.” He performed a bowing gesture as if George was the Queen and he was to be knighted.</p><p>Giggling, George rolled his eyes, the light mood instantly restored. Dream was a fascinating character; his moods seemed to waver like a leaf in the wind. One moment, he was a warm summer afternoon, and the next a brisk winter night. It was unsettling, but George found himself enraptured with the man; he was something special. </p><p>“And finally…” Dream took a deep breath, as if preparing for the brunette’s reaction, “I’m leading the rebellion against the king.” His words rushed out; fast like a river finally breaking through a dam.</p><p>George was stunned; the air seemed to be knocked out of him. His whole life, he had dreamed of joining the rebels, but never knew exactly how. According to rumors they were nomads, constantly moving, and George was no tracker. </p><p>“Are you serious?” George looked over at the masked man next to him, eyes glittering in pure amazement. <em> This is impossible, what are the odds? How many more secrets does this man hold? </em>Dream nodded, and George swore he could hear him grinning, “Yeah. That’s where we’re currently heading. So sorry, not sorry, but you’re coming with me.” </p><p>George blinked. So much had happened in one day, and his mind couldn’t make decisions for himself anymore. He absently nodded, looking over at Dream. George never would’ve expected the leader of a revolution would be an eccentric man in a smiley mask. </p><p>“We can talk more about that later, but you were asking about the dragon, right?” Dream rested his hands over his chest, looking over as George nodded. </p><p>“Well, I’m sure you’ve heard about Jschlatt’s slaughter, but there is always more to any story.” Dream clicked his tongue, “Years before we were ever born, Dragons, Humans, and Elves agree to achieve peace in the land. They created the Dragon Riders.”</p><p>“The first Dragon Rider was an Elf named Vikkstar, and he helped form peaceful relations with the Elves and Dwarves. Together, they worked as one to form this beautiful empire; Aisling. There was never an official king, but every member of the kingdom recognized Vikkstar as their leader.</p><p>After Jschlatt had risen through the ranks of Dragon Riders, his insane need for power began. He used his charming tongue to persuade 6 other riders to join him in mutiny. He promised them each a bit of land in his kingdom, and they trusted him in return. Collectively they murdered Vikkstar, proceeding to wipe the rest of the Dragon Riders, their Dragons, and their precious eggs off the face of Aisling. </p><p>In order to escape Jschlatt’s wrath, the Elves and Dwarves fled Aisling. They are both in locations lost to humans, secrets that can only be revealed by their kin. The Elves ran off to their hidden kingdom, Endelae. Too cowardly to try and defeat Jschlatt and his armies.” Dream said this with malice, his fists clenching.</p><p>“The Dwarves currently reside in the Nether, a place my rebellion has actively been trying to pinpoint. We hope that the Dwarves will agree to create an alliance, for their knowledge in redstone and weaponry could be the key to defeating Jschlatt.</p><p>After the two races went into hiding, Jschlatt hosted a congratulatory feast with his six devoted followers. He laced their goblets with Dragonroot and slaughtered the dragons sleeping in their chambers. </p><p>Once nobody was left to oppose him, he declared himself the first, and official king of Aisling. The first speech of his tyrannical rule was;” Dream’s voice lowered in pitch, imitating that of a drunken man,</p><p>“I, Jschlatt, king of Aisling, hereby declare that ANY use of True Magic will result in the choice between execution, or to join my Imperial Army.”</p><p>Dream made a sweeping motion with his hand, as if he were speaking to a gathering of people.</p><p>Dream’s voice returned to normal, “And that’s the end to the story our world has been told. But, Jschlatt had secretly kept three dragon eggs, planning to use them to fuel his army and ultimately conquer both the Dwarven and Elven lands. One of which hatched for a servant boy named Tubbo.”</p><p>George stared, an ocean of questions whirring in his mind. <em> How did nobody know about this? The King now had two dragons in his clutches! There was no way Dream's rebellion would succeed now. </em>He shook his head, listening as Dream continued speaking.</p><p>“The other two, well…” Now, George could definitely hear the grin in Dream’s voice. The masked man rolled over, pointing a gloved hand at George’s dragon.</p><p>“Well, there’s one of ‘em!” He chuckled darkly to himself, flopping back into the grass.</p><p>George frowned, “How did you get them though? Breaking into the castle doesn’t seem an easy feat.”</p><p>“Oh, Georgie.” Dream spoke wistfully, “you have so much to learn. Long story short, insider information told us where to look. It was an in-and-out kinda thing, y’know?”</p><p>George didn’t know, but he nodded anyway, the rasp in Dream’s voice lulling him to sleep. A soft smile rested on his face. It had been ages since the last time he just <em> talked </em>with someone.</p><p>“Anyways, every Dragon is destined to connect with someone, sometimes staying in their eggs for decades before finding their rider. Before arriving at your little village, I had been from Obsidian Capital, to Port Ender, and even the Sandstone Desert in hopes that the stupid egg would hatch.” </p><p>George raised a hand to caress the dragon on his chest, reveling in the catlike purr it produced while it slept. He grinned dopily, on the verge of falling asleep. </p><p>“I have one more question,” George spoke softly, almost as if he were to speak any louder the moment would shatter. </p><p>Dream nodded, distractedly cutting his hands through the night air, making <em> schiing </em>noises, “Yeah?” </p><p>“Why are you such an idiot?” George whispered, feeling himself give in to the clutches of sleep. Dream was silent for a moment, before bursting into deep laughter. </p><p>“Goodnight George.”</p><p>~OoOoO~ </p><p>George woke to a sharp pain in his forehead and groggily opened his eyes. He rolled over, smothering his face in the dewy grass while Dream’s excited voice shouted, “Yes! Headshot!” A hand on his shoulder shook him around, and George’s soul cried. <em> Why is this asshole waking me up right now? It’s like the asscrack of dawn. </em> George groaned, swatting Dream’s hand away.</p><p>“Geeoorge, wake up! We’ve gotta go, I let you sleep for like three hours, and for that, I think I deserve a thank you.” George rolled over to see Dream looming over him, clutching a handful of acorns in his left hand. </p><p>“Oh good, you’re finally alive. I thought I was gonna have to keep using you as acorn target practice.” Dream chuckled, walking away so George could properly sit up. </p><p> “My legs feel like they’re going to fall off,” George whined, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes. He crossed his feet on the floor, looking around for the little blue dragon. The hatchling followed Dream around like a baby duckling, sniffing at every different plant he picked from the ground. </p><p>“Oh, stop whining, little baby. Look, I made us breakfast,” Dream pointed to the raw pieces of meat skewered on two sharp sticks.</p><p>George scrunched his nose, raising an eyebrow, “Raw meat? I think I’ll pass.” Rising to his feet, George walked over to the kabobs as Dream chuckled. <em> How am I supposed to eat this? We can’t make a fire since the smoke would practically shout, “Hey! We’re over here!” to whatever is chasing us.  </em></p><p>“No, shut up and watch.” George watched as Dream stared intently at the meat, the word <em> Brisingr </em> falling from his lips. Instantly, the meat began to smoke, as if catching fire from the inside. George gaped, True Magic was banned. Obviously, there were the potions in Dream’s market booth, but this was different, this was <em> real </em> magic. </p><p>“You can do True Magic? Can you teach me?” George’s eyes lit up in awe, tiny stars dancing within them. </p><p>Dream shrugged, “Impressive, huh?” A smirk was evident in his voice once again, and George rolled his eyes. “Maybe another day. Today is Eat Breakfast and Continue Running Day!” Dream made jazz hands, as if running was something to be happy about. </p><p>George groaned, reaching out to take one of Dream’s magic kebabs. He sniffed it, before eating it whole. As soon as he bit down, he had to resist moaning at the flavor. <em> Wow! This is amazing. </em>He didn’t even realize how hungry he was until all of it was gone. </p><p>A deep chuckle sounded to his left, and George’s eyes flew open, his cheeks blushing a deep red. </p><p>“Would you like this one as well?” Dream asked, his shoulders rising in amusement. George shook his head, covering his cheeks with his hands.</p><p>“No- That one’s yours!” George whined, hiding his face. </p><p>“Actually, I made it for you. Elves don’t eat meat. Even though I don’t have to follow their dumb customs anymore, it just feels wrong.” </p><p>George smiled and raised an eyebrow, “Why don’t you have to follow their customs anymore? Did little Dreamy get in trouble?” George leaned forward with a teasing smirk. </p><p>“I made you breakfast and this is how you treat me? Shame on you.” Dream knocked George on the head with his fist, sauntering off towards the forest.</p><p>George realized that was Dream’s way of dodging a topic, and he let it slide. Grabbing his satchel, George placed the palm of his hand against the dragon’s shoulder. Immediately, a calm feeling enveloped him, and he explored the dragon’s mind-space.</p><p>He pushed a single thought with all his might, fighting against the surrounding pressure. <em> Stay beside me. </em> The dragon made no signs of understanding, continuing to blankly stare into George’s eyes. He tried again, and again, but the pressure just gradually increased. <em> Stay beside me. </em></p><p>Instantly, the pressure dissipated and the hatchling raised its head in acknowledgment. George grinned before scrambling to catch up with Dream, quickly falling into step with the taller man. </p><p>Overnight the dragon had already grown too large to fit comfortably on his shoulders, and so it trotted by their sides. Occasionally, the hatchling would scale a tree just to coast its way down a bit ahead of them.</p><p>Dream’s voice rang out in the silence, “You ready for another game of cat and mouse, Georgie? I’ll give you a 5-minute head start.” </p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p><em> 5 </em>...</p><p>George ran with vigor, taking in his surroundings. The pine trees he was used to slowly began fading into wide Oak trees, whose branches spread across the canopy.</p><p>
  <em> 4... </em>
</p><p>Patches of ferns littered the ground, and the occasional crack of a twig sounded beneath him. Sunlight filtered through the budding leaves, dapples of light resting on the forest floor.</p><p>
  <em> 3... </em>
</p><p>Periodically he would catch rare glimpses of dazzling blue in the treetops, the dragon’s diamond scales reflecting the morning sun. George pushed himself forwards, trying to gain as much ground on Dream as he could.</p><p>
  <em> 2…  </em>
</p><p>Compared to the day before, George felt stronger than ever. <em> Is it because of the bond with my dragon? According to history, overtime Dragon Riders’ physical capabilities did gradually increase. </em>His legs slammed a steady rhythm into the ground, leaping over roots.</p><p>
  <em> 1… </em>
</p><p>George gasped; being hunted was surprisingly fun, and childish laughter bubbled out of him. George never had friends in his childhood, and this was the first “game” he had ever played.</p><p>“ZERO!!!” Dream’s voice echoed through the lush forest, as if the birds carried it in their songs. George shivered, picking up the pace and carefully looking over his shoulder. Nobody was there. </p><p>Unnerved, he kept running, panting breaths leaving his throat in uneven gasps. His pace slowed, exhaustion finally taking its toll.</p><p>“Georgie… don’t tell me you're giving up already? We’re just getting started!” Dream’s voice cackled above him, and George’s blood ran cold. He briefly glanced around, continuing to run on for what seemed like hours.</p><p>Suddenly, the branches creaked above him and George’s head shot up. In a flurry of movement, a lime-green cloaked man leaped from the trees like a wildcat. Dream wrapped his arms around George’s waist, pulling him to his chest as they tumbled into a nearby stream. A splash of water rose around them, the crystal droplets wetting their faces.</p><p>George melted against Dream’s chest, giving in to the exhaustion as wild laughter bubbled from his lips. They lay there together, the chirping of birds a distant melody. George focused on Dream’s breathing, the soft exhales muffled by his ceramic mask. Absently, he tilted his head back, tucking it beneath the other man’s chin. </p><p>Dream abruptly sat up, a dazed George rolling off his chest and into the water below. The icy chill soaked into his tunic, and his throbbing muscles screamed in protest. </p><p>“That was fun.” Dream chuckled to himself, standing up and walking out of the river. George watched as he shook his head like a dog, glittering droplets flying from his hair.</p><p>He extended a hand towards George, who clasped Dream’s palm in return. George was lugged forward, quickly regaining his balance.</p><p>“How did you move through the trees like that? You were like an annoying little bird, following me around and cawing in my ear.” George smirked, looking up at Dream with wide eyes.</p><p>Dream shrugged, “Practice makes perfect.”</p><p>Nodding, George reached out with his mind, feeling for the little dragon’s. It was difficult to speak more than a few words, so he kept it short. <em> Where are you? </em></p><p>He got no response and began to worry his bottom lip with his teeth. He glanced around, eyes flitting through the trees in search of familiar blue scales.</p><p>Suddenly, a smooth, female voice entered his mind, <em> Up. </em></p><p>George tilted his head back, looking up into the tree above him. Sure enough, two blue eyes gazed down at him. The dragon soared down from the tree, landing at George’s feet before stretching out in a sunny patch. She curled her tail around her body, tucking her snout beneath it.</p><p>Again, the dragon’s voice sang in his mind, <em> George. </em></p><p>George watched her, his eyes growing wide, and replied, <em> Yes? </em></p><p><em> George </em> , the dragon said before closing her eyes. Abruptly, the pressure returned, and George grit his teeth. It was like a wall slamming down in front of him, and he reluctantly withdrew from her mind. George grumbled, clenching his fists. <em> Whatever, we have only been bonded for a night, it’s not worth getting worked up over </em>.</p><p>George watched as Dream slowly filled their flasks with the clear water from the stream, muttering words from the Ancient Language under his breath. George stalked over, tapping the man on the shoulder. Dream slowly turned, tilting his head to the side questioningly.</p><p>“Are you ready to go?” asked George as Dream handed him one of the flasks. He tucked it into the satchel, stuffing it beneath his tunics.</p><p>“Yeah, we’ll run until the sun sets. Tonight we’ll get proper sleep, and tomorrow I’ll teach you something new,” said Dream, stretching his arms. George excitedly nodded, walking over to his dragon.</p><p>“Get up, we’re going now. You can sleep later,” he said. The dragon cracked an eye open, huffing before rising to her feet. She shook herself, wings unfurling before launching into the trees above them. </p><p>Turning around, George set off on the path, following the masked man ahead of him.</p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p>Another day had passed, and as soon as George woke Dream rushed him into another spout of running. Apparently, they were moving faster than he had expected, and they would arrive at Dream’s camp in a few days' time. </p><p>George was grateful when Dream announced they had made enough ground for the day. Slowly, the sun fell behind the treetops, washing the sky in a mosaic of colors. George admired the sky before stopping beside Dream, their panting breath deafening in the silence.</p><p>George looked around; they were in a small, grassy clearing. Wide oak trees created a safe barrier from the outside world, their green leaves a promise of safety. Red mushrooms grew in clumps around their roots, and squirrels with cheeks full of acorns scurried past. </p><p>“George.” Dream’s voice broke the silence, and George whirled around to face him. “Are you ready to learn how to spar?” A wide grin spread across George’s face and he nodded enthusiastically.</p><p>“Good. Take a seat, I’ll be back in a moment.” George watched Dream’s back as he left, flopping into the grass. His blue dragon crawled towards him, and he pressed a palm against her shoulder. Instantly, a soothing calm spread over his body. </p><p><em> George, </em> she said, her voice smooth like water.</p><p>He rolled his eyes, “Is that all you know how to say?” He clenched his fists, furrowing his eyebrows. </p><p><em> Yes, </em>she replied teasingly.</p><p><em> Oh, so you think you’re funny, huh? </em>He scowled, the dragon reclining into the grass beside him.</p><p>“You need a name, don’t you? How do you like—“ before he could finish speaking, the dragon interrupted, <em> I already have a name. </em></p><p>“Oh ya, well what is it?” He leaned forward, studying the creature before him. <em> She’s like another person.  </em></p><p>The dragon’s voice caressed his mind, <em> Cerulean. </em></p><p>“Cerulean.” George tested the name on his tongue, before looking at the dragon before him. <em> Cerulean. Perfect.  </em></p><p>The dragon snorted, <em> I know. </em></p><p>George chuckled in surprise, <em> You're just as humble as I imagined.  </em></p><p><em> Dragons have never been humble creatures, </em> she said. <em> What we want, we get. </em> Her eyes opened, a striking blue. <em> And I wanted you, so now we are connected as one.  </em></p><p>George’s eyes widened, shocked at the blunt of her words. <em> What’s so special about me anyway? I’m just a simple peasant. </em></p><p>Before she could respond, Dream entered the clearing. “You have no idea how hard these were to find,” he raised two sticks into the air. </p><p>George looked around, smirking, “There are sticks everywhere, Dream. You’re just dumb.”</p><p>Dream brought a hand to his chest in mock offense.</p><p>“Wow, George. Low blow.” Dream wiped a false tear from his eye, or rather, his mask’s eye. He walked forward, stopping just in front of the brunette. Dream shoved one of the sticks into George’s hands, raising his own and pressing the point to George’s chest.</p><p>“I, Dream of Aisling, challenge you to a duel.” Dream dug the tip of his sword further into George’s chest, causing him to stumble backward. <em> This idiot. </em></p><p><em> Indeed, but a strong one, be careful, </em>Cerulean chimed in. </p><p>George nodded, rising to his feet. He brandished the sword in his hands, grinning, “Then a fight you’ll get.”</p><p>Dream squared his shoulders, rolling the “sword” in his hands. They slowly circled each other before Dream charged forward, swinging his stick. George’s eyes widened and he floundered to block the attack, gritting his teeth as Dream struck him in the shoulder. </p><p>George rushed forward, swinging the stick toward Dream’s ribs, but the blow was easily parried. He fronted a blow to the left, swinging his stick in a wide arc to strike his right side. Dream moved like a cobra, easily blocking his blow once again. “Ooh! You play dirty... I like that,” Dream teased, successfully distracting George from the battle. </p><p>In a fluid motion, Dream’s stick struck George in his knee, and he collapsed to the floor. Smothering a cry of pain, George bit down on his tongue. Glaring up at Dream he whined, “You didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>Dream shrugged, “Would a real enemy hesitate in a moment like that? You must learn to ignore your opponent's words.” He extended a hand, clasping George’s and pulling him to his feet. </p><p>“Round two?” Dream backed up, beginning to circle George once again. </p><p>~OoOoO~</p><p>After sparring for hours, George hurt all over. Dream hadn’t played easy, and George hadn’t landed a single blow the entire time. He groaned, dragging his palms down his face, the embarrassment burning his cheeks a bright red. <em> I didn’t know pain like this was possible.  </em></p><p>Cerulean lay by his side, and she began to produce a mix of chuffing breaths and unusual growling. George grimaced, looking down at her with a <em> what the fuck </em> look on his face. <em> Are you okay?  </em></p><p>Cerulean slashed her tail, <em> I just find it funny that you were bested so easily. My little rider has so much to learn.  </em></p><p>George’s jaw dropped, his face flushing a deeper red as he realized she had been <em> laughing </em> at him. <em> Shut up!  </em></p><p>Dream had lit a campfire, sure that they had lost their hunters. The sparks sprinkled the night air like golden glitter, and George found himself admiring the rising flames. Dream reclined beside him, his legs crossed. </p><p>George watched him for a moment, seeing the exact moment he went rigid. Quickly, Dream shifted his mask and tipped his head towards the air. His Elf ears twitched, and George watched with furrowed brows.</p><p>“Stay still.” Dream whispered, slowly rising to his feet and sliding his sword out of its scabbard. George nodded, reaching for his bow and pulling an arrow from its quiver. </p><p>“George, get behind me.” Dream inclined his head, bracing the sword in front of his face before whispering, “Skölir nosu.” George nodded, slinking over to huddle behind Dream.</p><p>“Reveal yourself!” Dream shouted, his voice practically growling. George involuntarily shivered, anger wafting off Dream in waves. </p><p>The bushes rustled, and a man stepped out, sword in hand. A wild grin rested on his face, his dark hair hidden beneath a metal helmet. </p><p>“Oh, what a pleasure this is! I’ve missed that gorgeous smile of yours, Dream.” The man’s voice was boyish, barely masking his ill intent. </p><p>“Shut it, Quackity. How long has it been since Jschlatt’s General left the castle? It seems you’ve forgotten your place.” Dream snarled, taking a step towards the shorter man before them. </p><p>“My place?” Quackity maniacally laughed, raising his arms upwards as if summoning an army. <em> Or maybe he is summoning an army </em>. </p><p>A stampede of footsteps surrounded them, 6 men in armor stepping out from around the clearing. George gasped, <em> 7 vs. 2? Wait… Do I even count as 1? This is hardly fair, we’re doomed.  </em></p><p>Dream seemed undeterred though, raising his sword and charging two men at once. In one fluid motion, he slipped a dagger from his boot, throwing it towards the man on the left. The dagger embedded itself between the man’s armor, sinking into his soft tissue. The man cried out, ripping the bloodied dagger from his body and throwing it to the ground in outrage. </p><p>Dream busied himself with the man on the right, parrying blows with inhuman speed before sweeping his sword upwards in one fluid motion. The man’s head rolled from his sword, dropping to the ground with a sickening <em> thump </em>, his body crumpling after it. </p><p>The man who had been struck by the dagger snarled like a rabid animal, charging towards Dream with a raised sword.  </p><p>George forced himself to look away, drawing an arrow and aiming it at Quackity. Quackity’s head snapped towards him, looking him up and down.</p><p>“Y’know George, you don’t have to get wrapped up in all this. All the king wants is you. Yet this idiot,” Quackity’s smile faltered, “just had to get in the way.” </p><p>George suddenly realized why he wasn’t being attacked. <em> They want Cerulean. </em>The dragon had disappeared and George was suddenly grateful she wasn’t in danger. </p><p>He drew the arrow back, releasing the bowstring and watching as the arrow careened towards Quackity’s chest. Right before the arrow met its target, it splintered against an invisible barrier, falling to the floor in two pieces. </p><p>“What a pity, I thought this would’ve been much easier. I guess I’ll have to step in.” Quackity crooned. George’s head snapped around to look at Dream, who panted in a circle of six dead bodies. Bloodstains littered his cloak, and George had an eerie feeling that none of it was his own. </p><p>Quackity’s eyes glowed red and he raised a palm towards Dream before shouting, “Garjzla!” His palm erupted in red light, shooting in a solid beam straight towards Dream. George panicked, his heart stopping in place. </p><p>Suddenly, George’s body surged with energy, an aching power flooding his veins. It filled him in every part of his body, a hungry burn that begged to be set free. The power was too strong; he had to do something or else it would consume him entirely.</p><p>Calmly, George raised his bow, aiming the arrow straight at Quackity’s heart. He looked down the arrow, the wild fire inside him dancing at his fingertips. </p><p>A single word surfaced from the depths of his mind, and he screamed, “Brisingr!” The arrow flew from his bow, cutting through the air like a falcon. A burning fire glowed at the tip, blue flames dancing in the air. The arrow splintered through Quackity’s invisible shield, piercing him in the chest. </p><p>A resounding boom sounded across the clearing, and George watched as Quackity flew backward into a tree, slumping against it. As the burning fire dissipated, choking exhaustion took its place. George felt like he would pass out at any moment, and he scrambled to lean against a tree. Dream cried out, and George whirled around to see him clutching at his chest before collapsing to the floor. </p><p>Panicked, George stumbled towards Dream, grabbing the man by his wrists. </p><p>“Dream, stay awake, please!” George whimpered, pulling the masked man against his chest. Suddenly, a deafening roar erupted from the sky, and George looked up to see a flurry of green, large wings, claws, and teeth before abruptly passing out.</p>
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